


You Believe in You and I

by brawnysloth, she_whomustnotbenamed



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawnysloth/pseuds/brawnysloth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_whomustnotbenamed/pseuds/she_whomustnotbenamed
Summary: "Him being prideful and emotionally shut down and unavailable.... but she can still see potential in him."- David Harbour, Variety 2017





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! We've officially collaborated on our very first Jopper fic. It’s family fluff, angst, and of course, romance. It’s based on a prompt that we received, but we’re keeping the prompt secret for now. We’ll reveal it in time.

Late Winter 1986

Hopper and El drove along the winding path toward the Byers house, the boxes in the back of the car bouncing from the uneven road. Today was officially the day they’d be moving in with Joyce and the boys. The winter seemed like it wasn’t going to let up anytime soon, and as safe as the cabin was, it was no longer viable for them to stay there.

El buzzed with excitement. She sang along to Robert Palmer’s ‘Addicted to Love’, occasionally sneaking teasing glances at Hopper. He rolled his eyes but turned it up with a grin. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but yeah, he was a little bit addicted to Joyce and their budding relationship.

As they pulled up alongside Joyce and Jonathan’s cars, the door to the house immediately flew open to reveal Joyce. Will barreled out from behind his mother, sprinting up to the car just as Hopper killed the engine. Clearly both kids were excited by the new arrangement, and he was grateful. He’d been worried that the boys would be annoyed by the intrusion, but as Will bounced from foot to foot next to his door, he felt relieved.

He shooed Will away so he could open the door, glancing back towards the house to spot Joyce and Jonathan coming down the steps.

“You excited then, buddy?” he teased, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Will nodded. “I couldn’t sleep! And we’ve been waiting for you for hours. Let’s do this!”

El rounded the car and the two kids hugged before chatting excitedly about the new arrangements.

“Mom says the bunk beds will be here Monday,” Will said, “and they come with a trundle! For when we have people for sleepovers.”

El’s face scrunched in confusion at the unknown word. “Trundle?”

“Yeah I’ll show you pictures in the catalog come on.” He grabbed her hand and made to head back to the house.

“Ah ah no,” Joyce said sternly, “no one goes back into that house empty handed. Grab a box come on.”

They turned, Will promising to show her pictures later, and headed to the trunk to grab a box each. Jonathan passed by to follow, smiling at Hopper as he went. Hopper clapped him appreciatively on the back. He understood this was a lot for Jonathan to undertake, even if he was leaving in a few months for college. But the kid seemed to be taking it in stride, and perhaps even he was a little excited about the situation.

He turned back to find Joyce had come to a stop in front of him. He slid a hand along her waist.

“Hello,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her.

“Hi, you ready?”

“Been ready,” he said with a grin.

“Well if that were true you would’ve moved last month when I first asked,” she said.

He shrugged but said nothing back. Since they had started seeing each other early last summer - or as the kids had called it, “gone official” - he’d been hesitant to rush things in their relationship. He wanted everything with her of course, and he knew she did too. But he didn’t want to move too quickly, he wanted them to take their time. Their relationship was good, but he had a constant sense of its fragility, worried that something could go wrong at any moment that would put it at risk. And he didn’t want to welcome that by adding any stress or expectations.  
So when she’d asked him last month to move in, had cited the cabin’s faults as a motive, he’d politely told her ‘not just yet’. But when the generator had stopped working last week and the temperature had plummeted once again, he’d taken her up on it, had decided what better time than the present?

A box floated precariously past them, and he turned to glare at El by the back of the truck.

“Hey, what did we talk about?”

“It’s too heavy,” she argued.

“You need your physical strength just as much as mental,” he reminded her, as he so often did when he found her cheating with her powers.

He didn’t like the idea of her _needing_ any kind of strength, but there was no denying the ever constant threat of the unknown around them. And he worried that if she was in a bad situation, she’d be at risk if she relied too heavily on her powers.

The box dropped out of the air, landing with a thud at his and Joyce’s feet.

“Hey that could’ve been fragile.”

El rolled her eyes and shot back, “We both know it’s not. Nothing we brought is.”

“What do you mean?” Joyce asked curiously from next to him.

“Oh you know,” he trailed off as she moved away from him and back toward the kids.

He winced, already preparing himself for her reaction and followed her. In the back sat four boxes, the fifth out on the ground where they stood.

“Hop, this seriously can’t be all of it,” she said, pushing at a box or two to try and gauge their weight.

“Joyce we don’t have much, just clothes really. Couple of books, few other personal things.”

“Pots? Pans?”

He shrugged. “Only got the one.”

“One pot and pan?”

“One pan.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. He glanced sideways at the kids, unsure where this was about to go. Jonathan tried to hide a smile and grabbed for one of the boxes.

“Alright you two, let’s give the grown ups some space,” he instructed.

He led them into the house, stopping briefly to hand his box to El before picking up the discarded, heavier one. When they were back in the house, he turned to Joyce and shrugged.

“We don’t have much,” he said. “You don’t need or want any of that furniture, yours is all better. I just figured we’d leave everything there, use it as storage space.”

“I get that but Hop. If I’d know you were living so-“ she waved her hand around, searching for a word. “- I dunno, like that, I’d… Well I don’t know what I would’ve done but it’s just… it makes me kinda sad.”

He waved her off before reaching up to soothingly rub her shoulders. “It’s fine, it’s not sad, it just is what it is.”

“I know but Jane, she really doesn’t have anything? Toys or I dunno I guess she’s too old for that kind of stuff.”

“She’s got her bike,” he said, nodding toward where it sat in the back seat. “And her books. Kid doesn’t really want for much else.”

She sighed heavily, still not placated. He moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into him and placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“We’ll get her some stuff,” he said, “but really don’t worry, we’ve been fine.” He pulled away, grinning down at her. “But now we’ll be better.”

She smiled softly. “Yeah, we will.”

They pulled apart and both reached for the remaining two boxes.

“And besides, if there’s anything we forgot the cabin ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he threw over his shoulder.

The unpacking process was a bit chaotic, and he felt guilty about the fact that he hadn’t thought to organize things into separate boxes. Instead, he’d thrown things in haphazardly which meant they were all constantly running between Joyce’s - and now his, he thought with a grin - room and El and Will’s, swapping clothes to get them to their rightful spots.

At one point, Jonathan had brought a box through to them and unceremoniously dropped it in the doorway.

“Nope,” he’d said, his face contorted in disgust, before he’d disappeared back the hall.

Hopper lifted one of the flaps and winced when he found a pile of his underwear. Joyce looked over his shoulder and snorted.

“Good one,” she said.

“Could’ve been worse, I think my condoms are under ‘em.”

Jonathan immediately appeared again, face now a picture of contained anger.

“No,” he said, “they weren’t.” He flung the small box onto the floor as though they were hot to the touch, and then he quickly disappeared again.

Hopper’s eyes widened, mortified.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “maybe now’s a good time to move out?”

She blushed, grabbed the box and stuffed them into the open top drawer of her dresser. She shrugged, trying to play at nonchalance, but it was clear she was just as horrified as he was.

“James, he once caught you leaving my room half naked, I think he knew already.”

He smiled fondly at the use of his full name. Until recently, she hadn’t called him it since high school, since before everything with Lonnie had unfolded. And he had missed it. Now as their relationship progressed, it had been slipping out more and more.

“Well I guess if we ever move again you’ll have to oversee the packing.”

The rest of it thankfully passed with no more blunders. They still all maneuvered between the two rooms, and maybe Jonathan struggled to meet his eye, but it was soothing in its domesticity to the point where it was even fun. Jonathan had his music blaring, and though it wasn’t particularly Hopper’s taste, it was entertaining to see Will wander out of the room, playing air drums as he tossed Hopper one of his work uniforms. Hopper would toss one of El’s books back and Will would catch it before bringing it up to strum at it as though it were a guitar.

More than once he went into the kids’ room to find them all sitting around, clearly having abandoned the unpacking, as Jonathan explained a fact about one of the bands on the tape to El. And he found himself standing in the doorway watching as she listened intently, and he couldn’t bring himself to get them moving again.

He was sorting his shirts into the drawer Joyce had cleared for him when he heard the music from the other room lower.

“Hey,” Will hollered, “what’s this?”

Panicked that they’d found something else embarrassing, he and Joyce quickly stopped what they were doing and moved down the hall to the other room. Will sat on the bed, holding aloft a photograph as El and Jonathan inspected it over his shoulder. He turned it around to read the back, and he heard Joyce’s soft gasp as the photo was made visible to them.

“True love, established 1958,” Will read before looking up at them. “Mom is this you?”

Hopper felt an itch, a need to move forward and snatch the photograph away. He was embarrassed that they had found it, embarrassed that he’d even brought it in the first place. It was a photo of himself and Joyce, perched atop his dad’s Oldsmobile on his birthday, the day he’d been given the car. She sat between his legs on the hood of the car, his arms wrapped around her as he placed a kiss on her cheek. Her head was thrown back in laughter, and he can still remember her swatting at him teasingly just after the photo had been snapped; can still remember the citrusy smell of shampoo as his nose was nestled in her curls.

Joyce wrung her hands together nervously.

“Uh yeah baby,” she said hesitantly, “that’s me.”

“And you?” El asked, eyes locking with his. He nodded, short.

“So, ‘true love’, did you guys like go out?” Will asked, and for perhaps the first time, the kid’s curiosity annoyed him. He brushed it off and nodded again. “What happened?”

Hopper bristled and he just couldn’t help himself.

“Lonnie,” he sneered.

The room fell eerily silent as realization dawned on Jonathan and Will, both with matching disappointed looks at the mention of their father. El’s eyes widened, seeming to catch on to at least a bit of it. It was suddenly awkward, and he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Joyce.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward to gently take the photo from Will. The young boy looked up at him guiltily.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Hopper instantly regretted his harsh reaction. It wasn’t the kids fault, and hell it was in the past now.

“It’s okay buddy,” he said softly, “we wouldn’t have you otherwise.” He rested his hand lovingly on top of Will’s head, and met Jonathan’s eye, hoping to convey the same sentiment applied to him. Jonathan smiled weakly back, clearly appreciative but still feeling awkward at the reveal.

Hopper cleared his throat again and tucked the photo into his back pocket.

“Hey what happened to the tunes? I was just getting ready to give my hips a shake.”

El immediately protested and the boys laughed and semblance seemed to be restored. As he turned to leave, Jonathan turned the stereo back up. Joyce had already left apparently, and he was quick to seek her out. He eventually found her stood out on the front porch, an unlit cigarette between her fingers.

“Hey now, you sneaking a smoke without me?”

She didn’t turn towards him, didn’t move to light the cigarette. He hesitantly moved around to face her. Her eyes were welled with unfallen tears, her lip trembled as she met his gaze.

“Hey, Joyce no don’t cry.” He moves to embrace her but she shuffled away.

“I don’t know how you could possibly forgive me for what I did,” she whispered, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her free hand.

He sighed heavily and moved forward again, this time not letting her escape. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her head beneath his chin, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head.

“It took me a long time,” he said softly, “and sometimes I still get a bit angry thinkin’ bout it. But where would we be now, huh?” He pulled away to look down at her. “Maybe we’d be happy, maybe we’d‘ve been miserable, who knows? But I know you wouldn’t have your boys Joyce, and I wouldn’t have had Sara. And I don’t like the idea of any of that.” He wiped a stray tear from under her eye. “You hurt me Joyce, I’m not gonna lie to you. But it’s not worth getting upset over anymore.”

She sighed and dropped her head to rest against his chest.

“Hey today’s a happy day,” he said, nudging gently at her cheek. She lifted her head to look up at him. “No more crying, let’s have a smoke and we’ll get back to it, okay?”

She nodded, pulling away and lifting the cigarette up to her mouth. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head as she took her first drag.

He did still hurt to think about, the way she’d abandoned him all those years ago. He’d been a broken, shell of a man in the months, even years after. And when he’d returned to Hawkins, it had all resurfaced. But they’d found each other again, and he’d grown to love and care for her kids and though the pain of their teenage breakup hurt, though the loss of his daughter tore him apart, he wouldn’t change any of it.

The rest of the unpacking process didn’t take them too long in the end, but they still relented to the kids’ requests for pizza to celebrate. It seemed a fair reward, and even if it hadn’t taken long he could tell neither him or Joyce, or even Jonathan, wanted to cook.

They sat around the table and shared stories about the week past and about what was to come in the week ahead. Hopper regaled them with a story of catching a teenager spray painting in one of the alleyways off Main.

“I chased after him a couple blocks and caught him,” he said proudly.

“He tripped,” El added, tucking into another slice of pizza.

He leaned forward, a teasing glare on his face.

“Still chased him and caught him though,” he said, tapping the end of her nose.

When the pizza was done, they retreated to the living room and settled in to watch a film. It was all so normal, a standard evening for the group of them over the past year.

And perhaps that’s why it didn’t hit him until he was lying in bed a few hours later. When Joyce came through from finishing her nightly routine and moved to settle in bed next to him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“I live here now.”

She grinned, pulling back the covers and getting in beside him.

“You do,” she said, moving to lie on her side facing him.

He slid further down the bed to mirror her, shuffling over so he was so close he could rest his forehead against hers.

“S‘nice,” he murmured, smiling.

“Very nice,” she agreed.

“Could get used to it.”

“You better.”

He lifted his hand to lightly run his fingers along her bare arm. He watched the movement for a moment before meeting her eye again.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“I know.” He rolled his eyes and she giggled in response. “What? It’s sweet.” She closed the small gap between them and kissed him.

“I love you too,” she whispered when she pulled away.

He closed the gap again, capturing her lips with his. His hand moved from her arm up into her hair at the back of her head, and he nudged her gently until she was lying flat beneath him. His lips left her mouth and trailed down her chin to her neck, tongue lapping at her pulse point.

“Where’d you put the condoms again?” he mumbled against her skin.

She gave him a light shove and when he pulled away, he found her looking at him admonishingly.

“Just because we’re living together now doesn’t mean we need to have sex all the time.”

“I know,” he argued, only a little put out as he rolled off and back to his side but still near her. “Just thought it was a nice moment.”

She reached up and turned off the light on her bedside table. She reached for him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him.

“Goodnight,” she said, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Night.”

There was a moments silence. And then another. Before she huffed and moved out of his arms and the light was back on.

“In the top drawer,” she said with a coy smile. “But I’m not getting up.”

He over exaggerated as he threw back the covers and leapt from the bed, causing her to giggle. He grinned as he rounded the bed towards the dresser, delighted that he could entertain her and make her laugh. Yeah, he thought, he could get used to this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you are all enjoying so far! Thanks as always for reading xxx

Hopper’s habit of lazily rolling into the station late each morning didn’t change once he moved in with Joyce. A week after the move, on a brisk Monday morning, he strolled into work two hours late and wasn’t ashamed as he took his time getting a cup of coffee.

“Let me get this straight,” Callahan said. With his feet propped up on his desk, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “She gets in here on time, but you don’t, even though you live there now?” He pointed across the room at a desk that up until six months ago, had been occupied by Flo. It was now occupied by Joyce, who had perfected the art of tuning out the men around her. She paid no attention to any of them. 

Powell beat Hopper to a response. “Why do you care?” He didn’t bother to look up from the magazine he was flipping through.

“It’s just a question.”

“It’s a stupid question.”

“Boys, boys, I know you’re jealous of my incredible life,” came Hopper’s dry response. “But try not to show it so much, you’ll give her a big head.” With a cocky smirk, he moved towards Joyce. She handed him his messages without looking up from the typewriter and his grin widened when she rolled her eyes.

Working at the police station, with her boyfriend as her boss, wasn’t her ideal choice of employment. When Flo retired and Joyce had struggled to find a new job after Melvald’s closed, Hopper had offered her the job immediately. The well meaninged offer led to one of many arguments on the subject. She didn’t need him to find her a job. She could take care of herself…and she didn’t need rescuing. However, in the end, reality had won out. The job was completely out of her comfort zone, but it provided normal working hours, higher pay, better benefits, and the ability to spend more time with her children. The pro’s eventually outweighed the cons.

“Your incredible life is gonna end if you don’t make it out to Mr. Monroe’s place today. He’s been calling about that tree on the power line all morning.”

Beneath his bushy mustache, Hopper mumbled, “Not my jurisdiction. That’s Power and Energy’s problem.”

Joyce spared him a glance so that she could shake her head at him. “They turned it back over to you. They won’t touch the line until you figure out what brought the tree down.”

“The damn wind brought it down!” His emphasized his response with his arms, which splashed coffee all over her desk.

“Hopper!” He shot her another grin, but she wasn’t in the mood for his antics. She slipped right back into her professional demeanor.“I told him you’d be out there by 11.” Their working relationship was much like their personal one, a constant push and pull over control and authority. Hopper liked to pretend that he was in charge of the station, but, everyone knew that wasn’t the case. Joyce, like Flo before her, was the real boss. Even Hopper (usually with dramatic protest) fell right in line.

Stepping away from her desk, he started his trek to his office. “I’ll get there when I get there.”

Already with her attention back on the type writer, she sternly called out, “11:00, Hop.”

Stubbornly, he mumbled, “Yeah, yeah.” 

At 10:49, Hopper was back at her desk. “Boys, let’s go. If I’m stuck going out in this weather, you are too.” He switched into a rain jacket and slid his hat on. Freezing rain pelted against the windows and the wind rattled the old frames. Neither Hopper nor Joyce acknowledged that he was doing exactly what she told him to. This was the game they played each day, at work, and now at home. 

The deputies grumbled and complained, and took their time getting ready, but eventually joined him at the desk. “This is a waste of time,” complained Hopper.

Refusing to give in to his behavior, Joyce sat back in her chair and shrugged. “Drive safe, boys.” The room was drafty and she pulled her long beige sweater more tightly around her chest. The job required business casual attire, a term that she was unaware of until Nancy helped her out. Even with black stockings, her simple polyester skirt did nothing to keep her legs warm.

Hopper shot her a miserable glare. “We’ll be back with Pneumonia.”

“I think you’ll survive.”

“You’re worse than Flo, you know that?”

Joyce smirked. “She’ll be proud to hear that.”

The deputies begrudgingly walked out, but Hopper hung back and after a few seconds, his grumpy demeanor softened. “Lunch today?”

“I’ll meet you in your office. Jane made us ham and cheese.”

Hopper’s eyes lit up at the information. Jane had taken it upon herself to assign everyone household jobs. Since Jonathan already handled breakfast, she wanted to make lunch. Her excitement to be in a real house, surrounded by family, was contagious, so they all played along, even when the sandwiches ended up soggy.

“Extra Mayo?”

“Of course.”

Dramatically, he clutched at his heart. “She’s a keeper, that kid.”

“Yo Chief,” Powell called. “We going or what?” 

Hopper nodded a goodbye and met the men in the hallway. When he noticed their amused looks, his eyes narrowed. “What?”

Clearly intimidated, Callahan didn’t dare speak. It was Powell who chuckled. “You two share lunches now?” They exited the building and he waited until they were out of ear shot before teasing, “Don’t you get enough of her at home?”

Hopper’s dry drawl was quick to respond. “Funny, your wife was asking me the same thing last night.” 

For the first hour, Joyce enjoyed the empty station and the chance to work in peace. But, as one hour turned to two, and two hours turned to three, the quiet atmosphere was replaced by anxiety that gnawed at her mind. Hopper, Callahan, and Powell had not returned. No other officers had come in either. Realizing what an odd occurrence that was, Joyce worried her teeth over her bottom lip and moved to the radio.

She radioed for Hopper first. When she got no response, she impatiently ran down the list of patrol cars. It wasn’t a long list, but it was still time consuming. No one responded, and her stomach began to churn with the familiar feeling of dread. A few minutes later, she was relieved when the sound of voices echoed down the hall, but her relief was short lived. Powell and Callahan were back. Alone. 

She was up and standing before either man could get a word in. “Where’s Hopper?”

Powell was soaking wet, and dirty. Muddy water from his boots puddled around his feet. He tore the black hat off his head and stared at it for a few seconds before he looked at her. Hesitantly, as if he were afraid of her, he said, “Joyce…there’s been an accident.”

It wasn’t a surprise to her. She had feared as much, and now that she knew for sure, her breathing sped up and her hands shook. “What kind of accident?” She frantically gathered up her things and flung her coat over her arm. “Where is he?” Her voice rose until it was almost a screech. “What happened?”

Callahan stared at her dumbly, with his mouth open wide. Powell wasn’t doing much better, but at least knew better than to ignore her. “A branch from that stupid tree came lose and knocked him backwards. He hit his head pretty hard.”

“Where’d they take him?” She left the wet men standing near her desk and made her way towards the hallway.

Powell turned so that his eyes could follow his movements. “Hawkins General.” He frowned in sympathy. “He wasn’t conscious.” 

Other than her round eyes widening, she kept her face stoic. She was not about to break down, especially in front of them. “I’m going.” Powell called after her, but she waved her hand in the air to dismiss him and kept on moving. Nothing was going to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy it! The angst ride is about to begin. ;)

School was both exciting and nerve-wracking for El. She loved learning. She loved all of the endless information she was given on a daily basis. She loved math, numbers coming easily to her. English was an interesting subject; she loved constantly learning new words, loved sitting at the dinner table and teaching them to Hopper. She was sure he knew them already, but he still sat and listened as she explained each and every one to him. It was so incredibly exciting to her to learn something new every day.

But it could also be overwhelming at times. There were so many people. There were hundreds of other students, all racing past her in the halls between classes; talking loudly in the cafeteria at lunch. Her ears rang for the first few days of the school year, her senses on overload.

She had been so terrified at first, but over the past few months, her nerves had calmed a bit.

Thankfully, at the beginning of the year when she had been enrolled, Hopper had insisted that she be put in all of Will’s classes to ensure she would never be alone. They had most classes with the rest of party, but there were a few in which she only had Will. And she was grateful for it.

Social studies, where they currently sat, was one of them.

She was listening intently as Miss Danvers talked them through the Civil Rights Movement. But suddenly, her voice began to fade. El looked up from where she was following along in her textbook, watched as Miss Danvers faded away, blackness creeping in until it surrounded her. She glanced around in a panic. No no no no.

_ “Chief!” _

She turned back in front of her to see her father, slumped facedown.

_ “Is he breathing? Chief!” _

He’s rolled over, but she can’t see by whom.

“Jane?”

She moved to stand, to make her way towards him, but her legs collapsed from under her and she fell to the ground.

“Dad?” she called out shakily. He didn’t move.

_ “- a pulse. Call for backup.” _

_ “But Joyce-” _

“Jane!”

As quick as it all appeared, it vanished instantly. She looked up to find she was back in the classroom, on the floor with Miss Danvers stood over her.

“Oh Jane, your nose is bleeding,” she said.

El looked around wildly for the vision, for her father. She   
locked eyes with Will who had stood from his desk, leaning over hers. He looked   
worried, scared.

“Susie, could you take Jane to the nurse?”

“I’ll do it,” Will said quickly, coming around Miss Danvers and the desk to kneel by El’s side.

“Will I don’t think-”

“Miss Danvers, Chief Hopper asked me to go where she goes, I think I should take her.”

“You follow her into the bathroom too?” A kid in the back snickered.

Without thinking, El turned towards the sound of his voice and with a small tilt of her head, sent the boy’s book flying backwards until it slammed him in the center of his chest. He doubled over with a groan, book falling to the floor.

She felt Will’s hand around her arm as he brought her gently to her feet.

“Careful with your book Peter,” he said casually, trying to play off the bizarre incident. “It’s okay Miss Danvers, I’ll get her there.”

She nodded absently, confused from what had just occurred, and Will took the opportunity to put his arm around El and guided her from the room.

When they’re in the hall, Will moved until they were out of sight of the classroom before he embraced El in a hug.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “you’re okay.”

She wrapped her arms around him, tears welling in her eyes.

“You saw Hopper?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “He wasn’t moving. I don’t know what happened but he was hurt.”

He pulled away to look at her. She could see he was worried too, but he tried to hide it with a determined face, one that reminded her of Joyce. It was the same look she got when she set about something. Hopper called it her stubborn face.

“We’ll call mom at the station and check on him,” he said, “come on.”

He grabbed her hand, leading her down the hall and outside to the payphone.

Joyce didn’t answer. She watched as the phone seemingly rang and rang, watched as Will’s face went from reassurance back to worry. He hung the phone back up with shaking hands.

El felt her breath quicken and tears form again as her worst fears were confirmed. Something was bad, very bad.

“Hey El, remember what Hopper showed us, deep breaths.”

She watched as Will demonstrated and encouraged her to copy him, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t slow it down. She was terrified beyond help. She kept picturing him lying there, and thinking the worst. What if he was dead?

“Mike,” she gasped suddenly.

Will nodded and raced to clamber up the steps.

Left alone, she slumped back against the payphone’s pole and brought her knees up to her chest. She tried again at the slow, deep breathing techniques Hopper had taught them. But the thought of him made her reimagine his lifeless body and her shoulders began to shake as she gave in to the need to cry.

Please be okay, she thought. She couldn’t imagine life without him. They had their ups and downs sure, but he was so important to her. In the past year he had worked so hard to keep her safe and to give her the happy life she had missed out on in the lab, hadn’t been fully able to have in the cabin. He was her dad, the one who had found her and taken care of her. He loved her and she loved him. She wiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks. This wasn’t fair.

The doors flew open again and she looked up to see Mike and Will clamber down the stairs. Will hung back as Mike all but dove down by her side, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her head, “it’s okay I’m here.”

“Hopper,” she cried.

“I know.” He pulled away. “Will told me. Come on, we’re gonna go find him.”

“But where?”

“They would’ve taken him to the hospital, we’ll go there first.”

He pulled her to her feet and together the three of them headed towards the rack with their bikes in a line. Her legs still shook and she stared hesitantly at her bike.

“Why don’t you ride with Mike?” Will suggested.

Mike nodded in agreement and made room for her as he climbed on. “Yeah it’ll be easier for you.”

“And us, we won’t get tired from trying to keep up with you,” Will teased.

El smiled softly at him, appreciating his efforts to try to cheer her up. She climbed onto the back of Mike’s bike and when she was situated they took off in the direction of the hospital.

***

Despite her erratic drive to the hospital and her commanding demands to the hospital staff, Joyce managed to calm down by the time she met with Hopper’s doctor.

“He’s got swelling around his brain, but that’s normal with his level of concussion. He’ll have one hell of a headache, but he should be fine once he’s up and alert.”

The doctor wasn’t much taller than her, so Joyce could fix her brown eyes on him without craning her neck, which was a nice change of pace. “Should be fine? What’s that mean, exactly?” Without raising her voice, she made it clear that she wasn’t going to stand for any bullshit.

The older man chuckled. “Brain injuries can be tricky. He’s not out of the woods, but as of right now we think that he’ll make a complete recovery. We’ll know more in the next few hours.”  

“The next few hours?” came her incredulous response. “So I’m just supposed to take your word for it until then?” Her tone was sharp, but she was remarkably calm, given the circumstances.

The doctor plastered a faux smile on his face. It was clear that he used it often. “Mrs. Hopper, he’s in good hands.”

His condescending tone made her cringe. “It’s Byers.”

“What was that?”

“Byers,” snapped Joyce. “My last name is Byers.”

His forced smile quickly fell. “Right. Mrs. Byers, just hang in there. He’s in 304, but we’ll let you know when he’s ready for visitors.”

The doctor patted her arm and her body instantly tensed. He walked away before he could notice her glare. Joyce didn’t trust doctors. Or hospitals. Or much at all, nowadays. The past few years had been one trauma after the next. She was always on edge. Always waiting for the next crisis to set in. She just hoped this wouldn’t be one of them. 

Her fingers itched for a cigarette, but she cursed when she realized that she had left her secret stash at the station. The kids had been on her lately, about quitting, but the old habit was hard to break, especially around Hopper. Her teeth nibbled over her thumb, instead. With nothing else to do, she paced around the empty waiting room and tried to keep her fears at bay. 

****

Sometime later, the trio raced through the ER doors and up to the woman behind the desk.

“Has the Chief been brought in?” Mike asked, reaching the desk first.

She smiled in that way El had noticed adults used when they felt bad for you.

“I’m sorry hon, I can’t just give out that kind of information.”

“This is his daughter,” Will said, pointing to El. “And my mom might be here with him, Joyce Byers?”

She turned from Mike, glancing between El and Will. There’s a spark of recognition as she looked at him, but she still seemed hesitant.

“Please,” Will continued, “Jane here’s worried about him, we all are.”

It did the trick. She sighed heavily and told them that Hopper had been brought in and had been taken up to the third floor. With a quick word of thanks, Mike grabbed El’s hand and moved away from the desk.

The three of them sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When they got to the third floor, Mike and Jane went in one direction and Will went in the other, splitting up to check around the different corners.

“Mom!” Will yelled, turning back to them. “This way!”

He waited as El and Mike ran towards him and rounded the corner. When El spotted Joyce, the older woman beckoned to her and she sprinted into her arms. Joyce wrapped her arms firmly around her, tucking El’s head beneath her chin.

“He’s okay, sweetheart,” she whispered into El’s curls. “The doctor said he’s gonna be just fine.”

El’s shoulders sagged in relief. She let out a gentle sob and clung tighter to Joyce. They held each other for a time, Joyce whispering soothing words in her ear, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. She pulled away, cupping El’s cheeks in her motherly, comforting way.

“How did you know?”

“I saw him,” she choked out. Joyce’s eyes widened in understanding. “But I didn’t know-”

She broke off. She didn’t know anything; what had happened to him; if he was going to be okay. She had just known he was hurt and that it was so bad he wasn’t responsive.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry.”

Joyce pressed a kiss to her forehead. El leaned in, resting her head against Joyce’s. She craved her love and affection, even more so now and she took comfort in it.

“Is he - he’s gonna be okay?” Will asked from where he now stood behind her.

El and Joyce turned to look at him. El could see he looked scared, not having heard Joyce’s earlier words “Yeah baby,” Joyce said, “the doctor thinks he’ll be fine.”

El watched as Will had the same relieved reaction she did. She inclined her head gently, encouraging him to come over. She knew how much Hopper meant to him, and she wanted him to be comforted too. He moved immediately, jolting forward to hug his mother. She returned it, repeating the same actions she had done with El, before pulling away and giving him a stern look.

“You shouldn’t have left school, I would have pulled you both out if that was necessary.”

“We tried calling first,” he argued. “But you didn’t answer and El was scared.”

Joyce sighed and turned to El. It was clear she wanted to keep lecturing them, and El knew were the circumstances different, she might. But she also knew Joyce understood El’s fear and Will’s brotherly concern. 

“I’m not happy you ditched school, but I’m glad you’re here.” She reached out to brush El’s hair from her eyes. “I really needed to see you both.” She turned her gaze to Mike, one eyebrow lifting curiously. “And they brought you along?”

“I wasn’t letting them come alone,” Mike said firmly.

Joyce smiled softly, appreciative.

“Thank you for that,” she said, “But we should go call your mother and let her know where you are. And she can let Jonathan know too, I think he was planning to go to your house after school.” She directed her attention back to Will and El, rubbing their arms in comfort. “He’s in room 304 if you wanna go see him. He’s not conscious, but the doctor said it might be a little while before he wakes, so that’s okay.”

“Not conscious?” El asked.

“It’s like he’s asleep,” Will explained. “Just he didn’t choose to go to sleep.”

El thought that made no sense, but she nodded anyways. Later she’d ask for more clarification on the matter. Will took her hand in his, and they moved down the hall as Joyce and Mike went in the opposite direction to call his mom. She looked over her shoulder to see Mike doing the same. He smiled at her and it helped to make her feel like everything was going to be okay.

When they got to the room marked 304, the door was shut and the blinds were drawn. Will squeezed her hand and turned to her.

“Remember, he’ll look like he’s asleep. But he’s going to wake up and be okay.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand back. She wanted to hug him, to try and tell him how grateful she was for him. But she also wanted to see Hopper immediately, so she pushed it aside for later. Will took a deep breath before turning the handle and leading her inside.

He stopped almost immediately upon entering the room. Confused and worried, El peeked around the doorframe.

Hopper sat up in bed, awake. His eyes were wide as he looked at them.

“S’goin’ on?” His speech slurred slightly, and El was reminded of how he usually was when he woke up.

“You’re awake,” Will said in shock. He turned to grin at El. “He’s awake!” He let go of her hand. “I’ll go get mom!”

He raced from the door, back down the hall from where they’d come from.

He was awake and El felt relief flood through her all over again. She had been so scared since her vision. She could still see him lying there motionless. But that image quickly wiped away as she looked at him before her. Awake, mobile, alive.

She stepped forward and she didn’t miss as he seemed to shrink back into the bed, away from her. It startled her, but it also made him seem to come more into focus and she was able to look him over more clearly.

His eyes were wide, not in shock but instead he looked fearful. What had he once said? Deer in headlights?

_ “It means like when a deer’s bout to get hit by a car. It knows it in that brief moment, looks up all scared. ‘Deer in headlights’.” _

“Dad?” She called hesitantly.

She didn’t miss his small gasp or the way he clutched at the blankets. He leaned forward slightly.

“Sara?” He whispered hoarsely.

El’s heart sank. She shook her head gently. This wasn’t new to her, he’d mistaken her for Sara before. Usually when she’d woken him from a deep sleep. Will said this was like a sleep. She always felt guilty when it happened, but he was always quick to assure her that it was okay.

She watched as his face crumbled. She moved forward to go comfort him but he shrunk away from her again and she froze. She felt her breaths grow shorter as she worried. She always feared he was upset she wasn’t Sara. He was always so quick to reassure her. And she knew deep down he didn’t truly feel that way, but she couldn’t help but worry now as he sat there, distraught, and made no move or sound to comfort her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Joyce and Will walked quickly down the hall back towards Hopper’s room. They’d left Mike on the phone with his mom to pass on the information to Jonathan, trusting that he would be fine on his own. She didn’t want to wait another second to see Hopper. She entered the room in front of Will, and when she saw Hopper sitting up in the bed, she finally allowed herself to feel the relief she had tried to keep tame when Will first came and got her. She needed to see for herself that he was up and alert, that he was okay.

  
“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh thank god.”

  
His wide eyes turned to her. She could see he looked near tears, and she watched as he took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Joyce?”

  
She stepped forward, rushing to his side. “I’m here,” she said soothingly, reaching for his hand.

  
He jerked violently away from her, startling her. “Why?”

  
Her brow furrowed in confusion. What kind of question was that? And why was he reacting like that to her touch? “What do you mean?”

  
“What are you-” he cut off, running a hand over his face “- the hell’s goin’ on?” He looked around, confused. His glazed over eyes swept across the kids before settling on her.

He seemed disinterested, annoyed. She worried he was still disoriented. He had just come to after all. She reached for him again. “James-”

  
He swatted her hand away, his face a picture of fury. It shook her to her core. They’d had many a fight in recent years but he’d never looked at her like that.  
“Don’t,” he said low, in warning.

  
A feeling of dread settled deep in her chest. Her mind raced, analyzing the situation as quickly as she could. And all it could come to was one, single conclusion. She prayed she was overreacting, that her mind was playing tricks on her. But the way he was reacting, the way he was looking at her, with anger and frustration seemingly just at the sight of her, she knew deep down what it was.

  
She glanced back at the kids. Will looked confused but her eyes settled on El. She looked scared, tears welling in her eyes. She smiled softly, hoping to calm her from across the room, afraid to leave his side just yet. “Okay,” she said calmly, for his sake and the kids’, “let’s just take a deep breath.”

  
“Take a - what’s going on?” His voice raised, panicked. “I’m - I’m in the hospital, you’re here, what are you doin’ here? And you brought your kids?” He threw back the covers and moved to stand. “And my fuckin’ head- s’killin’ me.”

  
Your kids. She gasped at that, hand coming up to try and stop it from coming out. It all but confirmed her fears. She fought back the despair, willed the tears not to fall. She needed to be strong, for him and for Will and El huddled by the door.

  
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and she moved forward again.

  
“Hopper, don’t get out of bed.”

  
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, brushing her off and planting his feet on the ground. His legs gave out as soon as he stood. Joyce did her best to catch him, but his weight was too much and he collapsed on all fours, with her at his side. He was breathing heavily, arms shaking.

  
“Mom?” Will called hesitantly.

  
“It’s okay, baby,” she said over her shoulder.

  
“S’not okay,” Hopper mumbled. “S’not - just get out. Take your kids and just - just go.”

  
“Hopper,” she said shakily.

  
“Go,” he repeated. “I don’t-” his arms gave out too, and he sagged to the floor.

  
Making a split second decision, she got up from where she was knelt and moved back towards the kids.

  
“Dad?” El called, voice cracking.

  
“Not your dad,” Hopper snapped. “Why’s she…”

  
Joyce watched as El’s face crumbled and she quickly wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t listen to him,” she whispered into the young girl’s hair, “he’s just not feeling well.” She wrapped her other arm around Will, moving them towards the door. “Let’s just wait outside, come on.”

  
Mike came through the door, nearly barreling into them. Hopper groaned. “There’s another?”

  
She ignored him. She tried to prioritize, tried to take one move at a time. She needed to get the kids out of there and fast, before he said something else, something worse. She briefly thought there wasn’t much worse he could say beyond his angry words to El, but she brushed that aside. With one last worried glance back at him, she ushered the kids out into the hall and shut the door behind them.

  
“Mom,” Will began when they were out in the hall, “what’s wrong with him? Why’s he acting like that?”

  
She bit at her thumb nervously. She didn’t want to voice her fears to the kids, in case she was wrong and even in case she was right. She didn’t want to burden them with that. They had been through so much the past few years. She sucked in a quick breath. So much, she thought. Surely they’d all been through enough. Surely this couldn’t be real? But she thought again of how he’d called them ‘your kids’, how he’d looked at her. And she knew deep down that it was bad. She shook her head and smiled reassuringly at Will and then El.

  
“He’s just a little out of it,” she lied, “he hit his head really hard.”

  
“But it was like he didn’t know us.”

  
“He’s gonna be fine,” she lied again. “I need to go find his doctor or a nurse okay? He needs help getting back in bed.”

  
“I can help,” El chimed in quietly, timid. Joyce found herself wondering nervously what had transpired between El and Hopper before she’d gotten there. She was clearly upset, but Joyce couldn’t figure out if that was from his latest remarks or from something earlier. She reached up to tuck a strand of El’s hair behind her ear. “I know you can, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She turned to the boys. “Can you guys go find his doctor?”

  
Reluctantly, both boys nodded and headed down the hall. El lingered for a moment and Joyce wrapped her arms around her. “He’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I promise.” She closed her eyes against the guilt and fear she was possibly lying to the girl.

***

  
It didn’t take long for the boys to find his doctor. Soon Hopper’s room was buzzing with hospital staff, and the kids, Joyce included, were ushered back to the waiting room. Back to square one, they waited for what seemed like hours.

  
She flitted between the two kids, offering reassuring words, soothing arm rubs, the occasional kiss to the top of their heads. She tried to exude assurance, confidence. It didn’t seem to be working. Will seemed troubled, El appeared stoic but Joyce could read the vulnerability ready to crack through. Mike sat between Will and El, holding the later’s hand, and alternated offering support to whichever one Joyce had switched focus from. And in amongst the chaos, the thousands of thoughts racing through her mind, she spared a brief moment to be grateful her kids had such wonderful friends.

  
Finally, Hopper’s doctor came and pulled Joyce into a private room that was next to the waiting room. From the small room, Joyce glanced towards the window until she spotted the kids. The door was shut, blocking their ears from the doctor’s words. Joyce wasn’t naïve. This was the type of room where they delivered bad news. Anxious for him to confirm her worst fears, she nibbled at her lip and watched as he looked over Hopper’s chart.

  
“We ran a few quick tests, asked him some questions, and had the neurologist examine him…and we’ve ascertained that he’s experiencing some retrograde amnesia.”

Hearing the diagnosis confirmed didn’t provide any relief. “Some? What, what does that mean, some?” she pointed a shaky finger towards the door, even though Hopper wasn’t behind it. “That man in there, he doesn’t recognize his daughter or my son. Or me, really.”

  
“Yes, well, that does align with the tests we ran.” The doctor handed her a questionnaire that a nurse had filled out. “Those are the responses to our questions.”

For a split second, Joyce hesitated. The information on the paper terrified her. But, she had to know. She scanned the document, letting her eyes pause after each question and answer. According to Hopper, he was divorced, not in a relationship, and his only child was deceased. The list of questions went on and on. He knew his name, occupation, and other important facts. That didn’t make sense to her, and she looked up at the doctor with furrowed brows. “What does this mean?”

  
With a sympathetic smile, he responded, “His amnesia seems to have set in somewhere around the winter of 1982. He doesn’t remember anything after that.”

Tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them. “1982?”

  
“Yes, but I want to stress that this more than likely won’t be permanent. Most people regain most if not all of their memories.”

  
His condition was worse than what her imagination had conjured up. In terms of what had happened in their lives, 1982 was like a lifetime ago. He continued to speak, but she didn’t hear any of it. El, Will’s ordeal, the upside down, their relationship, all of it was gone. It was too big of a shock to wrap her mind around. They were not on the best of terms in 1982, in fact, she could probably count the number of times they had even spoken.

  
Feeling restless, she stood up. “How long will it take to get the memories back?”

  
“It could be hours. Or days. Weeks, even. We’ll have a better idea once some of the swelling goes down.”

  
Joyce’s stomach dropped. She looked out the window again and saw El’s worried eyes staring back at her. Reluctantly, she forced her gaze back on the doctor and lowered her voice. “Weeks? How am I supposed to…” Her mind was spinning so fast that it was nearly impossible to get a coherent sentence out. “What am I supposed to…”

  
“Mrs. Byers, I understand that this is a shock. It was a shock for him, too.”

  
“You told him?”

  
“The neurologist had a long discussion with him about it. He did not take it well. He was in a bit of denial, which again, is completely normal. I assure you. It’s going to take him some time to come to grips with reality.”

  
It was all too much. The news. The information. The kids. Joyce’s knees buckled and she quickly plopped back down in her chair. The way he had looked at her, the anger, the bitterness…she couldn’t get that image out of her mind.

***

  
Sometime later, Joyce took a steadying breath and leaned her head against the door. She knew what was waiting for her on the other side, and now she found she wanted to be anywhere but here. If only she hadn’t insisted he go out, if only they’d waited until the storm subsided. She turned the handle slowly and entered the room. He was lying on his side facing away from the door and she guiltily hoped that maybe he was asleep. But then he lifted his head to look back at her and groaned.

“Told you to go.”

  
“You’re not well, I’m not just gonna leave you.”

  
“S’what you’re good at.”

  
She flinched at the casual way he flung such a hurtful statement. But she pushed aside the pain and walked towards the empty chair around by the side he was facing and sat in it. He glared at her, shifting as if he might roll over but eventually he settled back in.

  
She grappled with what to say, where to start. “How’s your head?”

  
“Hurts.”

  
“And how are you-” she waved her hand awkwardly, “- feeling?”

  
“Just said it hurts.”

  
“I mean about everything.” She paused. “Your - you know-”

  
“The fact that I’m about 4 years behind, have a kid and am apparently dating you?” He stressed ‘you’, added extra venom to it, as though the thought of being with her was the worst bit of the whole situation. She chose not to respond, just nodded.  
He shrugged. “Hurts.”

They said nothing for a brief time, sat in awkwardly silence. She didn’t know what to possibly say and he didn’t exactly seem up for talking given his short answers.  
“So what,” he began, drawing her attention back to him, “I just forgave you for everything?”  
  
Joyce struggled at first on how to answer. She didn’t want to tell him about Will’s disappearance just yet, let alone everything surrounding it. But then how could she explain how they’d gotten here without it? “We worked through it,” she said vaguely, “and things out of our control, brought us closer.”

  
“Out of our control?” he asked rhetorically. “Yeah guess that makes sense. Would have to be something like that for me to get over you cheating on me.”

  
“I never cheated on you,” she argued.

  
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Semantics.”

  
“Hop-”

  
“No,” he snapped leaning up on his elbow, pointing an angry finger at her, “don’t sit there and act like you weren’t talking to Lonnie behind my back, encouraging him to keep going after you.” He was shaking, whether from anger or from the effort to hold himself up, she wasn’t sure. “You may not’ve fucked him while we were together but you sure as hell wanted to.”

  
Joyce’s insides bubbled with unexpected rage. The things he was saying, the events he was bringing up, they had already talked them death. Not immediately, upon his return to Hawkins, but in those long winter months following Will’s disappearance. Their high school drama was over. Done with. Water under the bridge. Sure, it came up from time to time, like when the kids found their old photograph, but it was never like this. It was never as raw and bitter as it was right now.

  
“That-” she cleared her throat and angrily wiped at a stray tear falling down her cheek. “That was a long time ago Hop.” Even as she said it, she realized how silly she sounded. His reality wasn’t her reality. It was a long time ago, but where she saw something painful that had healed over time, he only saw a raw, open wound. Joye took a deep breath and reminded herself, again, that he wasn’t well.

  
He scoffed, lowering himself back down to his side. “So they tell me.”

  
Once again, an awkward silence fell over them. He closed his eyes, rubbed at his forehead and winced. And she sat and watched him, tried to keep her emotions in check. She hated that she’d already shed a tear in front of him, she couldn’t allow anymore.

  
She listened to his shaky breathing, and thought perhaps he’d fallen asleep when he spoke again, “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

  
His eyes shot open and he watched her for a moment. “How do I trust any of this is true? That we’re together and all that?”

  
Joyce huffed. “Why would I be here if we weren’t?”

  
Hopper lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know, just seems a little convenient.”

  
She reeled back, bewildered. “I’m sorry, convenient?” He opened his mouth to speak again but she carried on. “What about this is convenient, James? Not 5 hours ago you were happy, you loved me.”

  
“Don’t call me that,” he said, voice slightly raised.

  
“Sorry,” she said sarcastically, voice rising to match his. She tried to remind herself to stay calm, that he didn’t know any better. But she wasn’t going to sit there and be his verbal punching bag. “But it’s what I call you now because we’re together. And we love each other. And it isn’t convenient and it isn’t always perfect. But it’s real.”  
He stared at her, enraged. And when he finally spoke it was low, almost a whisper, “Maybe for you it was.”

  
She felt her chest constrict, felt the pain he had clearly intended wash over her. The implications of that comment. She shook her head, clenched her teeth to keep from crying. It wasn’t true, she repeated to herself over and over. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. The anger from before was gone, replaced once again with sadness once again. He didn’t know, she thought. And while it may have been a harsh and awful thing for him to say, he didn’t know. He didn’t know of Will’s disappearance, the Upside Down, and how it had brought them together. Hopper - her Hopper - loved her. They may not have said it often, but she knew. This Hopper, this one was still grieving, still in that dark place from before, and it didn’t help that before Will’s disappearance they didn’t have much interaction.  
She cleared her throat, shook her head again to clear her mind.

  
“That’s not true,” she said quietly, firmly. “You’ll see.”

  
He looked away, staring blankly ahead of him. “Can you just go?” he grumbled.

  
“Hopper I don’t think-”

  
“Joyce please.” It came out in a quiet, broken plea, his face morphing into despair. “I don’t want you here. Please just leave.”

  
She didn’t move. She was torn on what to do. Part of her wanted to stay, wanted to be there for him whether he wanted it or not. But another part of her didn’t want to be there either; didn’t want to sit with this man she recognized but didn’t know. And as she looked at him, saw how broken he looked, she realized as much as she wanted to comfort him it was probably best for both of them for her to leave.

  
She stood, stepped towards him before catching herself. “You should rest,” she said, struggling to keep from reaching out to him. “I’ll - I’ll check on you in a bit.”

  
“Please don’t,” he said quietly as she retreated.

  
She ignored the sting in her chest and kept walking until she was out the door.

***  
  
The kids were still sat in the waiting room, and in her absence, Jonathan and Nancy had arrived. Jonathan jumped out of his seat and met her in the entryway, wrapping her up in a hug. She held onto him tightly, taking comfort from his embrace.

  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he said, pulling away, “How is he?”

  
“He’s resting.”

  
He watched her suspiciously, noticing how she’d somewhat evaded the question. Thankfully, he didn’t press her.

  
“They’re getting anxious,” he said, nodding back towards the younger ones. “I was thinking of taking them down to the cafeteria for some food, distract them a bit.”

  
She glanced over his shoulder at them, still sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, huddled together. She hated what they were going to have to go through with all of this, hated that at the present moment she couldn’t think of anything she could do to protect them from it.

  
She cleared her throat and reached down to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. “Actually I think you should take them home.”

  
Jonathan stared at her incredulously. “You really think they’re just gonna leave?”

  
She closed her eyes, dreading the uphill battle she knew she was about to face. “I can’t have them here right now.”

  
“Mom what’s going on, you’re scaring me.”

  
“Jonathan please,” she whispered, begging.

  
She didn’t know what else to say, had no words beyond just pleading for him to listen to her. She didn’t want to tell them here. She knew they would be emotional, confused and perhaps even angry. It was only fair they find out in the comfort of their home, where they felt safe. He hesitated but eventually he gave in, nodding his agreement.

  
She knew that was the easy part. With a heavy sigh, she maneuvered around him to kneel in front of the kids. They did not take it as well. El refused to budge, defiantly crossing her arms and declaring she wouldn’t move. Will was no better, and as sweet as she found it that he too wouldn’t leave Hopper, it frustrated her that she couldn’t rely on him to reason with El. Mike was no help either, though Nancy tried to talk to the younger girl. But still, neither kid budged.

  
She took El’s hands in hers, tried once more time to reason with her.

  
“He wouldn’t leave me,” El said firmly.

  
“I know honey, I know,” Joyce assured her softly. She brought one of El’s hands up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “But he wouldn’t want you sitting around here, he’d want you at home. He’s just gonna be sleeping for a while. And soon they’re gonna send us away anyway. We’ll come see him tomorrow.”

  
El seemed to consider it briefly before replying, “Promise?”

  
Joyce made sure to hold back a wince. She didn’t want to lie to El, but she didn’t know if that was a promise she could keep. She had no idea if Hopper would want to see her tomorrow, let alone the kids.

  
“Promise,” she said, doing her best to push down the guilt.

  
El’s eyes bore through her before she nodded and stood. Joyce thought briefly on the concerning trust El put in that single word - trust she herself had just demonstrated was misguided at best, and at worst, dangerous - but she brushed that off for another day.

She gave each of her kids a hug and a kiss as they departed, and she thanked the both Nancy and Mike for being there for them through it all. Jonathan hesitated at the end of the hall. She gave an encouraging nod, but it was clear even from afar he wasn’t buying it, though he did finally follow after the others.

When he was out of sight, she waited a few moments just to be sure before collapsing into the nearest chair, dropping her head in her hands. She stayed that way for some time, as thoughtless as she was motionless. She felt devoid, blank.

She remained in the chair until a nurse tapped her on the shoulder and politely told her visiting hours were coming to an end. It was funny, she thought. She wasn’t exactly visiting anymore was she? She was just sitting there; unable to move, unable to bring herself to leave him.

At the nurse’s insistence, she stood. She headed to the door of his room, pressed gently against the handle. When the door opened, she was relieved to find that this time he was asleep, and she moved forward. She leant down quietly, gently and brushed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin, worried she was pushing her luck, but unwilling to leave him without saying it.

He didn’t stir. She straightened up, refrained from reaching out to touch him again, and left the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when we said that this fic was written from an anon Tumblr prompt that we received? And we didn't want to say what the prompt was just yet? Well, SURPRISE. The prompt was: 
> 
> Hopper is in a real bad accident and has amnesia. He thinks it’s 1981/1982. He’s forgotten everything from Will’s disappearance on. 
> 
> You had to see that coming...:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so sorry that this took so long! We have the next chapter almost finished so it won't take as long next time!!!

Will and El crowded around Joyce the second she arrived home. Jonathan wasn’t far behind, but he effortlessly slipped into the role of the silent observer by keeping his distance. They asked her question after question, barely stopping to let her answer. She wasn’t overwhelmed though. Quite the contrary, actually. She’d expected it and was prepared to give them peace of mind. At least, for now. 

“He’s okay. He just needs to rest, so the doctors told me to head home.” 

It was Jonathan who raised a skeptical eyebrow and eventually questioned, “And you listened?” 

Lying to Will and El was easier than lying to Jonathan, so Joyce focused her eyes on them. “He’s sleeping. He won’t miss me.” She tried to make light of the situation with a smile, but her smile barely reached her cheeks. 

El’s forehead crinkled with lines of worry. “What if he wakes up? Alone.” 

“Sweetie, he’ll be okay,” Joyce said, with a shake of her head. She smoothed locks of El’s messy hair. “He told me to head home.” It wasn’t a lie, so it wasn’t hard to say. What was hard, was keeping her eyes from welling with tears. 

Will, now taller than both his mother and El, made a face. “But is he still out of it, like before?” 

“Is he still calling me Sara?” El’s hopeful, but sad eyes, bore into hers. 

Joyce’s eyes darted towards Jonathan and then to the wall where the clock hung. It was late and she didn’t have the energy or the heart to get into his diagnoses now. It was all a mistake. It had to be. The naive part of her believed that his memories would return by the morning. Things would be back to normal...and then she would never have to tell Hopper’s daughter that he had no memory of her existence. 

Looking for a distraction, Joyce pointed to Jonathan. “Did you guys eat?” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan responded before stepping closer. “Mom, what’s going on?” 

Before Joyce could respond, El jumped in. “Does he know who I am?” 

Will added, “Is he still angry?” 

Shakily, Joyce ran her hands over her cheeks. “He’s still having memory trouble...and he’s not himself. His head’s hurt pretty bad. He just needs some time.” 

El and Will stared at her in silence. Their features were so similar that one could confuse them for actual siblings. Whether they believed her or not, she wasn’t sure, but she kept going anyway. She brushed her hand playfully across the top of Will’s head and then wrapped her arms around El. “It’s gonna be okay, alright?” El relaxed against her touch and nodded her head. Again, Joyce’s stomach ached with guilt, but she pushed it away. Hopper would be fine. He had to. 

***  
Smoke from Joyce’s lit cigarette drifted up past her nostrils and into the air. Lost in thought, in the dimly lit kitchen, her eyes locked on the swirling gray smoke. It danced in the air, before drifting away. It was so mesmerizing, that she forgot to even bring the cigarette to her lips. Instead, it burned away, dropping ash all over the table. She didn’t notice when Jonathan came into the room.

“Mom,” he called from behind her. When he got no response, he moved closer. “Mom?” Still he received no response and in a more urgent tone, he said, “Mom!”

It wasn’t until he stepped in front of her that she came out of her reverie. Slightly startled, she stared at him with wide eyes before softening her features. “Jonathan?”

“Are you okay?”

Joyce let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, yeah…I just couldn’t sleep.” Realizing that the cigarette was nearly burnt away, she snuffed it out in a nearby ashtray and then reached for the pack. Her mouth moved as she pulled a fresh cigarette out, but no sound came out.

Jonathan took a seat across from her. “I thought you quit?” His tone lacked any accusation. In fact, it bordered on amused. Will and El were the ones leading the anti-smoking campaign. Jonathan just played along.

Though her body practically radiated sadness, her lips curled up into a smile anyway. “Don’t rat me out. I owe them arcade money if they catch me.” Joyce turned her head to exhale.

“I won’t.” His fingers tapped against the table as he studied her. She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. Will and El were still awake. Jonathan had heard their hushed conversation as he had passed their room, but he didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that. “Mom, what’s going on with Hopper?”

His question brought her eyes back to his. Her finger grabbed at her earlobe and her eyes darted around as she feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a shit liar,” insisted Jonathan. “I know Hopper’s not okay. You wouldn’t be this upset.”

At first, Joyce attempted to deny it, but at her son’s incredulous look, she averted her eyes and sighed. “His memory loss…” her words trailed off, but eventually recovered. “It’s worse than I said.”

Suspecting as much, Jonathan wasn’t surprised. “How much worse?”

Turning her head to make sure that they were alone, Joyce then leaned forward so that she could keep her tone as low as possible. “He thinks it’s 1982.” She had never had trouble talking to her boys about things and she didn’t have trouble now. “He doesn’t remember any of the past few years. Not the lab, or Will, or El. He doesn’t even remember moving in.”

“But, he remembers you?”

“No, well. Yes.” She took another drag from her cigarette and waited a long time before adding, “He remembers me from the past. High School and all that. Nothing recent.”

At some point, her body started shaking slightly. Jonathan reached across the table and put his hand over hers to re-focus her. “Mom, he’ll be okay. The doctor said so.” 

Ever grateful for her eldest son, she smiled in appreciation and put her free hand over his. “His memories should come back, eventually.” She didn’t have to hide her fears in front of him. From a young age, he had become her confidant of sorts. It was a bond they shared. It was them shielding Will from the harsh realities of life and now, they were shielding El, too. “He’s not himself. Right now. He’s angry and doesn’t want to see any of us. I don’t want them to know all that, yet. Especially, El.”

Jonathan’s brows furrowed. “They’re gonna figure it out though, mom.” He glanced around the kitchen as if they were right there, listening. “She’s gonna wanna see him.” 

“It’s just for right now,” Joyce insisted. “Let’s just see what happens in the next day or two.” Her body started to shake again as the day finally caught up to her. With it, her tone grew slightly frantic. “Please, Jonathan.” 

“Okay,” he eventually replied. He had to say it a few times, because it didn’t seem to register the first time. With a worried look, he took her arm. “Mom, come on, let’s go try to sleep.” 

“I’m alright.” 

Jonathan stood up and grabbed the cigarette out of her hand. He shoved it into the ashtray and then took her arm again. “Mom, please. You can’t get like this.” His words came out as a gentle reminder, one that he had given her many times over the years. “He’s gonna be okay.” 

Briefly, Joyce considered arguing, but her tired limbs weren’t strong enough to fight his strength as he helped pull her up. “Okay,” she mumbled, her lip quivering. She wouldn’t sleep. She was sure of that, but she would try. For her family.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brawnysloth and I are so sorry that this took so long!! We've got the next update almost ready, so it shouldn't be as long. We promise! :)
> 
> We are gonna try and get our shit together before Christmas so that we can update all of our fics! :)

Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Normally the meal was loud and almost comical; they very rarely were all at the table at once. Usually the kids would rotate in, taking turns using the bathroom, getting dressed in their rooms for school. Joyce would pop in and out of the kitchen, determined to sit and spend time with each of her children but also needing to get ready for work herself. Hopper too would wander out, taking his turn at the table with the kids, having a cup of coffee and a few pieces of bacon. And then he would drop affectionate pats on three heads and a kiss on her cheek before lumbering back down the hall for another hour or two of sleep. It was frazzling but uniquely them.

On this day however, the kids all sat around the table together in silence, the only sounds in the room were the scratching of silverware against their plates. Jonathan shrugged helplessly at his mother as she came in. Judging by the Eggo Extravaganzas in front of the younger two, it was clear he had attempted to cheer them up. Unfortunately they sat barely eaten on the plates, a clear warning sign that something wasn’t right.

Joyce ran her gaze over the younger two. It looked as if they hadn’t really made an effort this morning. They were no fashion trend setters in any sense, but both of their shirts looked slept in and she wouldn’t be surprised if that had been the case. El’s hair was messy and a hair tie around her wrist clued Joyce in that she’d probably be asked to help put it up. All three kids looked as though they had barely slept, a feeling she herself was familiar with.

She stepped fully into the kitchen, switching on enthusiasm that she didn’t truly feel, exuding comfort she herself could use right now. But her focus, as always, was on her children. She dropped a kiss to each of their foreheads as she rounded the table and took her seat. She avoided grimacing at the sickly sweet breakfast in front of her, hiding it behind a smile as she looked around the table.

“Look at you guys getting spoiled,” she said cheerily, “you’re gonna be bouncing off the walls at school today.”

“Mom, we don’t wanna go today,” Will said, setting his fork down and pushing away his plate. “We wanna see Hopper.”

Beside him, El nodded emphatically. Joyce’s smile wavered for a brief moment and she glanced Jonathan’s way. He grimaced back, a sign he’d likely known this was coming, had likely had to deal with this discussion himself before she’d come out. She looked between the two younger kids and took a steadying breath, wanting to choose her next words carefully.

“I know you do baby,” she said, reaching across the table for his hand. She turned to El and did the same. “I know you both do.” She glanced at Jonathan again, knowing that even if he didn’t show it, he wanted to as well. “I do too. But I’ve gotta go to work and you all have to go to school.”

El withdrew her hand from Joyce’s grasp, her face set in a scowl. “That’s not fair.”

“Sweetheart-”

“No,” El angrily cut her off. “You said we’d go today. You promised.”

Joyce sighed heavily. “I know, and we will. But you guys need to go to school. And I can’t miss work, not when we don’t know how long he’ll be out of work for.” She directed the last bit at the boys, knowing they understood the concept of money better than El; knowing they’d understand the repercussions of a short paycheck.

Will hung his head guiltily but nodded in acceptance, while Jonathan looked worried at the prospect. When she turned her gaze to El, the young girl’s determination seemed to falter.

“Is it,” she began quietly, “because he still won’t remember me?”

Joyce took a sharp breath. She was torn on what to say. On the one hand, she wanted to be honest. She was worried - or rather she was certain - that today there would be no change. They would go in and he’d still be back in ‘82. And she wanted to prepare them, especially El, for that possibility. But on the other hand, she knew how fragile El could be. She was still getting a handle on life outside of the lab. She may have superpowers, but she was still a kid. Joyce knew she might not take it well; she might not even understand the concept of amnesia and memory loss.

Joyce reached forward and grasped El’s hand again. “He’ll remember you,” she said firmly. “I can’t promise you it’ll be today, but he will remember you.”

She spoke so assuredly, that for a moment she believed it herself. El nodded slowly before removing her hand and returning to her breakfast. Will followed suit and then Jonathan, though he shot her a wary glance. She felt her resolve crumble as quickly as it had come, but held back on allowing it to show. She knew she couldn’t will Hopper’s memory to return, but she’d damn well try to keep the kids spirits high in spite of it.  
*****  
Hopper closed his eyes against the blinding lights of the hospital room and pleaded with himself to fall back asleep, if only because it was something to do. Or rather, it allowed him to avoid the fact that he couldn’t do anything, confined to the bed as he was.

He’d been in and out of sleep since breakfast, if a piece of toast and a couple slices of an apple counted as breakfast. The nurse had said they didn’t want to upset his stomach, which made sense. He did vaguely recall getting sick after Joyce had left as well as waking up a few times in the night from it. But now he felt fine. In fact he was starving.

He craved donuts from the station, or a big stack of waffles. Yeah, he thought, a big stack of waffles doused in syrup and whipped cream. He hadn’t had waffles in ages. His stomach growled at the thought. Maybe he could swing by Benny’s when he was finally released and get some. And while he was there he could ask ol’ Benny boy how the hell he’d let him get back together with Joyce, of all people.

The door to his room opened, and he tensed, as he had every time the door had opened this morning. He was nervous, terrified even, that it would be Joyce. He was expecting her; he knew she’d show up eventually because of course she would. Of course she wouldn’t heed his requests to be left alone. She’d changed since high school, but he wasn’t naive enough to think her bullheadedness had disappeared.

Thankfully, it wasn’t Joyce who walked through the door. Instead, he sighed in relief at seeing it was Powell and Callahan. Finally, he thought familiar faces.

“Hey Chief,” Powell said, stepping into the room. “How you feeling?”

Before he could answer, Callahan stepped forward too.

“Uh I’m Phil,” he said, “and this is Calvin, we work-“

“Yeah I know who you are you idiot,” Hopper said, with a roll of his eyes. “Sadly, I didn’t lose that.”

The younger man nodded and shuffled awkwardly, chastised. “Right, got it.”

“And I’m just peachy,” Hopper continued, voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned back to Powell. “Why do you ask?”

The two officers shared a look. It was a familiar look by now, he’d seen it on near everyone’s face since he’d woken up; apprehension. On the doctors, nurses, Joyce. He sighed heavily in frustration, rubbing again at his forehead where it continued to throb.

“We just wanted to stop by and let you know we’re here if you need anything,” Powell said. “And not to worry about the station we’ll take care of things until you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. He fiddled with the ends of the bed sheet. “I uh - this is all a lot.”

“Can’t imagine Chief,” Powell said, “I don’t think anyone would handle it well in your situation.”

“I definitely wouldn’t,” Callahan chimed in.

“But you’re in good hands. You’ve got Joyce, that’s something to be grateful for.”

Hopper rolled his eyes, let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I don’t ‘got’ Joyce. Or if I do… I don’t – how’d the hell did that even happen?”

The two men shared another look before turning back to him in disbelief. “Chief,” Powell began with an awkward laugh, “you can’t be serious.”

He huffed in annoyance. “Deadly - why would I even talk to her let alone date her?”

Callahan snorted, hand coming up to mask it. Powell too tried to hide a smirk but to no avail. “Sorry Chief,” he said, “it’s just, well, you’ve got it pretty bad for her.”

“Real bad,” Callahan agreed, grinning. “You’re kind of obsessed with her.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“It’s actually a bit gross, I mean she’s hot for her age-“

“Alright enough,” Hopper growled.

The two men fell silent. Their cheerfulness disappeared, replaced with unease. He looked anywhere but at them, rubbed absentmindedly at the side of his head. It was all too much.

“Look,” Powell began again, “we don’t know why that upsets you, we’re sorry it does. But for the past few years the two of you have been inseparable.”

“Yeah, ever since her kid went missing-“

Powell reached over and smacked the younger man in the chest to silence him. But it was too late. Hopper turned back to them and sat up a bit straighter.

“What?” he demanded. “Her kid went missing?”

He tried to recall what he knew about her from before. Her and Lonnie had two boys, right? Were those the two from yesterday? No, he thought. They weren’t that close in age. Perhaps it had been the older one? He hadn’t been there yesterday. Had he - he shook his head, pushed down the overwhelming concern; for Joyce and for the kid he didn’t know. Might never know, the darker part of his brain whispered.

“It’s not our place to say,” Powell finally said. “Probably best you hear it from her.”

He nodded in understanding. It frustrated him, not knowing; and of course it frustrated him to think about seeing her again. But he knew Joyce, even as the years stretched between them before his return to Hawkins, even as they avoided each other around town when he did return. He knew her. And he knew that she hated people gossiping, hated people whispering about her when she wasn’t around. So he wouldn’t press the guys for more info. Because he knew - if something had happened to her kid - he knew she’d hate it if that’s how he found out. And having been subject of those particular whispers himself, he wanted no part in it. So he nodded, accepted that he would see her again and he could ask her then.

The two men took their leave, telling him to get some rest. “He’s gonna kick your ass for that ‘hot’ comment when his memory comes back,” he heard Powell say as he shut the door behind him.  
Hopper sunk back into the bed once more. His head was pounding, but at least the hunger from before was gone. He bit his lip, closed his eyes and took deep steadying breaths, willing the nausea to pass. He drifted back to sleep, thinking of lost love, lost children, and the woman that connected them all.  
****  
Feeling a tad more confident than she had the day before, Joyce stood in the doorway of Hopper’s hospital room and rapt her knuckles across the open door.

Having just come from the bathroom, he was out of bed and lifted his head up too fast. He only caught a glimpse of her before a searing pain ripped through his head. Hopper’s knees buckled and he rushed to the bed so that he had something to lean on.

Joyce was at his side quickly. Her hand moved to his round bicep, steadying him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” he ground out. His head felt like it was splitting into pieces. Long, deep sighs left his lips as wave after wave of pain, dizziness, and nausea washed over him.  
Joyce nibbled her bottom lip. “I can get the nurse...”

As if finally realizing where her hand was, he shrugged away from her touch. “No.” It was hard to tell whether his seething response was from the pain or her presence.

After staying still for a long time, the pain lessened and his muscles relaxed in relief. Cautiously he sat down on the edge of the bed. “The painkillers aren’t doing a damn thing.”  
“I’ll have the nurse come in. Maybe she can give you more.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “I don’t need your help, Joyce.”

Her stomach dropped when she realized that his bitterness towards her wasn’t much better than the day before. Any hope that she had held in that regard slipped quickly away. She was more prepared though, for the emotional pain of it all, and stood up straight and tall. “You don’t know what you need.”

“I know enough,” he said, with a glare.

Joyce rolled her eyes. They were going in circles. Eager to avoid having the same argument as the night before, she swatted the air between them and sat down in the nearest chair. “Whether you remember it or not, I’m still your girlfriend…and your friend. Your only friend, actually.”

Desperate to win, to prove her wrong, his retort was fast and ill thought out. “Callahan and Powell were just here. They’re my friends.” He could barely get the words out with a straight face. A brief, but noticeable smile pulled at his lips before he shook his head in self-deprecation. “Maybe friend is too strong a word…but I’ve got Benny, at least.”

Joyce lowered her eyes and her shoulders rolled forward. At the sudden change in demeanor, Hopper’s soft smile faded away. A foreboding tingle, one that he couldn’t place, ran down his spine and left him feeling uneasy. “Joyce?”

Her sympathetic gaze met his. “Hop, Benny…he…he died a couple years back.”

Shock took over his features before he managed to get a hold of himself. “How?”

A somber sigh left her lips. Benny was just one of the many casualties that the Lab had left in its’ wake…and it was impossible to explain that to him just yet. “He shot himself.”

“What?” His eyes narrowed, pulled down by his bushy brows. He shook his head and then cringed in pain. “No. No...I know Benny. He wouldn’t do that.

Joyce chuckled, softly. Not out of amusement, but out of fondness. How could it be that the man before her was so different and yet, so similar? “That’s what you said, after it happened, too.”

“What’d I do about it?”

“You never believed it. You never backed down.”

An awkwardness fell between them as the weight of all that she wasn’t saying hung in the air. He needed answers, but was too proud to ask. She needed to explain, but was too scared to go down that road just yet. They were at a stalemate. Again.

Joyce eventually bit her knuckle and let her eyes drift away. “I’m sorry, Hopper.”

“Stop,” came his gruff response. “Everyone is so damn sorry. I’m sick of it.” For a moment, he wished she’d get up and leave. Then, suddenly, he wished the complete opposite. His dueling thoughts tormented his psyche. Eventually, he lifted his hands to his face in an attempt to block both them and her out.

Lines of concern broke out across her face. “I know it’s a lot, all at once, but you’d be pissed as hell if I lied just to make you feel better.” She watched as he scrubbed his cheeks and then massaged his temples. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. She knew it was the truth.

Eventually, Hopper gave up trying to be tough and moved so that he was flat on his back. The bright lights made his head throb. Before he could acknowledge that, or even dare to ask…Joyce got up and flipped them off. A relieved sigh left his lips. His next words were barely audible and perhaps, the nicest thing that he had said since waking up. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hopper wasn’t in the mood to talk, and especially not with her, but the conversation with Callahan and Powell wouldn’t leave his thoughts and before he really knew what he was doing, he blurted out, “Tell me about your son.”

Thrown completely off guard, Joyce was stunned into silence for several long seconds as she sat back down in the chair. “Which one?”

He kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. “The one that went missing.”

“What…what do you wanna know?” She found it suddenly hard to sit still as her right heel tapped against the tile.

His eyes went to hers then, and they were soft and kind and not at all angry. “Uh…is he, you know…did he…”

Joyce put him out of his misery. “He’s okay.” At his noticeable relief, she nodded. “You helped me find him. My boy would be dead if not for you.”

Hopper was unable to accept her compliment. “I’m a cop…Joyce. It’s what I do.”

“You went above and beyond your duties, Hop. Trust me.” She glanced around the room and nibbled at her lip. Could she get away with telling him what happened? Here? In such a public place? No. It was too risky. “I’ll tell you the whole story once you’re feeling better. It’s a doozy.”

He didn’t have the energy to argue and he was a tad grateful that she wasn’t going to tell him the story just yet. He tore his eyes away from her to look at the open door. “And what about Jane?” He couldn’t call her his daughter. It wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be. “I know she ain’t mine,” he stated in a low tone. “They told me some damn story about this long lost kid showing up...that I got her mother pregnant and all…but I know that’s bullshit.”

Fear gripped at Joyce’s chest. She leaned forward, determined to get as close to him as the distance would allow. “Hopper…”

He still wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to see her sympathetic look. “I know its bullshit, Joyce,” he snapped. “I never met any Terry Ives and I was in New York, so how the hell could I have had a kid with her? My memories from back then are just fine, so don’t even try to feed me that shit.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Joyce said. Forcing her shoulders back, she stood up and moved towards the door. She shut it gently, so as not to draw attention, and then moved to his side. This time, she didn’t sit down. “She’s not your biological daughter.”

Hopper opened his mouth, but her response wasn’t what he expected, and he quickly shut it when he realized that he had nothing to say.  
“You found her alone, in the woods, about two years ago. You took her in and officially adopted her last year.”

His mind spun with the new information. “Why would I do that?” A man like him didn’t just go around adopting stray children. A man like him…ruined everything he touched.

Joyce reached for his hand. Her hand hung in mid hair as she hesitated, and then she made up her mind and grabbed it anyway. “You’re a good man, Hop. You love her…and I know it’s hard to believe, but you love my two boys, too.” She moved her hand before he could do it for her.

He swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat. Nothing made sense. She had to be lying. This had to be some kind of joke. But, deep down, he knew that wasn’t the case. Unable to express any of his feelings, he deflected altogether. “What’s with the story then? Why say she’s mine?”

“It’s complicated.” At his eye roll, she added, “Another thing I can tell you once you’re out of here…”

Hopper let out a disgruntled sigh and then crossed his arms. “So, what am I supposed to do now, with these kids?”

“They wanna see you. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep El away.”

“El?”  
Joyce made a face. “Jane. Sometimes we call her El, as a nickname.”

“Why?” At her look, he shut his eyes in frustration. “Another thing I can’t know here. Got it.”

“It’s just too much to explain right now…”

“I said I got it,” he snapped.

Joyce paid no attention to his bad attitude. “Do you want me to bring them here, so you can meet them?” Her throat burned as she said the word ‘meet’ and she hoped that he wouldn’t notice that her eyes were filling with tears.

Hopper shook his head. “I don’t want them to see me like this, again.” It was a lie, and he knew that she saw right through it, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t meet them yet, especially not Jane…no, El…or…whatever her name was.

Joyce had to fight down the urge to argue. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t in her nature to let something like that go, but what could she do? She couldn’t risk upsetting El more than she already was. “Okay. I’m sure they’ll let you leave here soon.”

“I’m sure they will.” He let out a puff of disgruntled air, and then there was silence.


End file.
